


Noble

by heathen-heart (stickpenalties)



Category: Hellboy (Movies), Hellboy - All Media Types
Genre: Blood Kink, Brother/Sister Incest, Cunnilingus, F/M, Face-Sitting, Incest, Nobility, Oral Sex, Sibling Incest, Twincest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-24
Updated: 2016-03-24
Packaged: 2018-05-28 19:57:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6343114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stickpenalties/pseuds/heathen-heart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Every royal woman deserves a throne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Noble

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Nuada/Nuala, nobility" over at the [pbam](http://pbam.dreamwidth.org) Prompt Stack.
> 
> There is a reference to menstruation, so proceed with caution if that squicks you out. Also, I went with the interpretation that the facial scar is given as a rite of passage rather than being something members of the royal family are born with.

Nuada has always loved her body.

At first Nuala thought it was vanity, when they were younger and looked so alike that even their tutors still confused them for each other. He saw himself in her; it only made sense to see himself _inside_ of her, their bodies moving in unison, her hair brushing his shoulders as she rode him.

The night they were given their scars, she heard the murmurs from the crowd as the warm blood dripped down her cheeks. She knew every nasty thought in every one of their minds without needing to reach out and read them: _unearned, undeserving, unwomanly_. With her eyes closed to block out the sneering faces, she reached into her brother’s mind instead and drew the strength she needed from him.

He worshipped her that night, kissing every inch of her from her toes to her scalp, rubbing circles into her hips with his thumbs as he made his way back down her body until he was between her legs. He licked and sucked her until she came, her long fingers fisted in his hair, and he didn’t flinch when she clenched her thighs around his face, even though the tension between her lean muscles pulled his skin and tore open the fresh scabs across his cheeks.

His blood smeared onto her legs while he licked her softly, bringing her down from her high, and she thought it looked like her own blood, the monthly reminder of her womanhood, one of the few things in the world that set the two of them apart. 

It spread onto his thighs while he fucked her, catching and pinching her skin as it dried. The friction hurt, but she treasured it.

Once she was a woman grown, all soft curves where he was hard lines, he still wanted her, more than ever. Then, she thought the reason he came to her was to spend the roiling energy left over after a battle or a particularly intense day at the court; he wanted to fuck and she was just _there_ , never too far from him, like she always had been. But now, he comes to her after an uneventful day more and more often. It makes her wonder.

Tonight is one of those nights. She straddles him in her huge bed, settling down on top of him so that her slick folds are pressed against his hard shaft instead of taking him inside of her. He beckons her in for a kiss, and she goes eagerly, leaning down and meeting his lips with her own. The smell of him, so different from her own and yet still so familiar, sends heat spreading through her body. She clutches the sheets and grinds against him until he rocks up against her, rubbing his length over her clit, making her gasp and lower her head to his shoulder.

“Princess,” he murmurs in her ear, moving one hand to cup her breast, squeezing gently and flicking his thumb over her nipple.

Nuala props herself up so she can see him. He has a wicked, playful smile on his face, and she responds to it with one of her own. “Yes?”

“Come up here.” He hooks his fingers around the back of her thighs and tugs gently, inviting her to move up his body. She sits up and obliges him, shuffling up the bed until her knees are on either side of his head. Looking down at him, his face framed by the curve of her breasts, she feels freer than ever. The superior one, for once.

Her thighs shiver from the effort of holding herself up while she rides his tongue, but he coaxes her into relaxation with his hands on her skin and with his words, spoken right up against her so the vibrations make her whimper. After her first orgasm, she gives up on any thoughts of his comfort—this is _her_ time—and stops trying to hold herself above him. Instead she lets go of all the tension in her muscles and sits astride him.

Focusing on her own pleasure is so much easier this way, and she brushes the surface of his mind for just long enough to see that he prefers it this way too. When she rocks her hips against him and forces herself down onto his lips, he groans, and she feels the sound inside her.

He brings her to the edge and then over it for a second time, holding her steady as she shouts in pleasure and shakes against him.

That night, he stays in her bed instead of sneaking off to his own as he usually does. He holds her close under the golden sheets and kisses her forehead, and before they drift off to sleep, she lets herself think for a moment that he truly loves her.


End file.
